Chapter Nineteen

Wynter

It was time to make another trip into town. My stepsisters did not like the dresses they’d bought and wanted more. In fact, they wanted some that came from better places, but that would have involved a trip to the city or order from a high-end boutique online, and there was just no time. And, I suspected, money.

Father had always cared for us well, and we lived in comfort, but the snowballing of my sisters and their expenditures would tax the finances of a family a lot wealthier than ours. At the start, their mother had been just about as bad, but even she had slowed down, as evidenced by the fact that she bought just one dress for the event.

“You’re going to have to take all the rest back if you want another,” she told them in a tight voice. They were in the dining room, gobbling their breakfast while I scrubbed the stove. Apparently one of them decided she wanted a snack during the night, and it was too cold out to come after me. When I wished I had a smart phone…any phone…I remembered that would give them the ability to call me twenty-four seven. It really was damned if you do or don’t because whichever thought they could make soup and a sandwich had spilled the soup, letting it cook into the stove, and also burned the pan for the sandwich. How they’d get by when I left was beyond me. Of course, they thought they’d be marrying their Prince Charmings after the ball, and I was never going to leave.

Where would I go?

While I scrubbed the floor on hands and knees—how could one can of tomato soup spread so far? I overheard Violet’s and Calla’s wails at their mother’s remarks.

“No, Mama. We can’t take the dresses back. Not only did we tear off the tags, but after we tried them on, we stuffed them in the hamper with the wet towels.” Violet’s note of triumph was disgusting. “They are unreturnable and unwearable. Even that girl won’t be able to make them better.”

“How will we ever get married if we show up in wet, wrinkled ball gowns?” Calla added.

My next job would be to try and salvage the dresses. I’d seen them try to exchange clothing they’d destroyed before, claiming it “came that way,” but those times had been their own decisions, mostly for the joy of ripping off the merchants. Their mother’s demand that they could not have more gowns without returning these? That was new. Why didn’t she just tell them to slow down and make the money last until they found their mates? It wasn’t as if they’d care what happened after they left.

If they left. Could Fate be so cruel as to give them mates but not me?

“Fine.” Of course, Stepmama capitulated. “But after this, we have to talk about living sensibly within our means.”

“After this,” Violet snickered, “we’ll be living within our new alpha mates’ means.”

Good luck with that.

But, for what it was worth, an hour later, after getting way overdressed for our little town, they piled into the car, and I went back to cleaning. No car service today. After the discussion of the dresses, they probably didn’t dare to ask. As soon as they were out of sight, I’d fetch the dresses from the hamper, hoping to salvage them from any further damage. An idea niggled at the back of my mind. Could I possibly fix one up for myself? Of course, I’d never get to the ball, but a couple of the gowns were in much better taste than usual and could be altered to fit me. One with beautiful silver lace trim in particular was beautiful.

“Wynter, are you coming or not?”

Crap. Not? As if they ever gave me choices. “On my way, Stepmama.” I dried my hands on a towel, smoothed my hair, and picked up my shawl on the way out the door. I didn’t have anything better to change into. In the back seat, I huddled into the corner, as far away from Violet and her “signature scent” as possible. At some point, she’d decided that she should wear the fragrance of her namesake flower. And the version she chose bore zero resemblance to the sweet loveliness of the wild violets that grew in the forest clearings. Usually I just tried to ignore it, but for some reason today, she’d decided to double down, and my eyes were watering. They also bickered all the way, something else I could not escape in the confines of the vehicle.

For that and every other reason, the moment Stepmama parked behind the dress shop, I opened the door and stumbled out, inhaling fresh air and the quieter sounds of the townsfolk going about their day.

With no idea why they’d brought me along, I waited to be told. Stepmama soon relieved me of any doubt. She shoved a list and some money in my hand. “Go to the beauty supply and get everything exactly as I’ve written it. Got it?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Her daughters certainly needed all the beautifying they could manage. Not that I was stupid enough to say so. I left them behind and headed down the alley to the back entrance to the beauty supply. My list was extensive. Hair coloring, makeup, bath products—it went on and on. Usually they did their own shopping for this stuff, but my being here gave me an opportunity to do something I wouldn’t have dared to try before. I added a few things for myself. A bar of soap scented with bergamot and rose, mascara and lip gloss, and a rhinestone hair comb. Fortunately the receipt did not list the items, just prices, and when I exited into the alley, I paused to fish out my things and stuff them in my pockets. With what I’d spent, my stepmother would never notice the few dollars I’d used for my things. Things I had no use for. Somehow I wanted them anyway.

“It’s you.” The deep voice rumbled

I barely managed to clap my hand over my mouth to stop the shriek from emerging. The bag of beauty products fell to the ground, a sickening crack telling me something broke. Ugh.